


A Praying James

by springbok7



Series: An Assortment of Teas and Biscuits [8]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: #MinervaSafe, 007 Fest, 007 Fest Fancreations, 007 games, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Multi, Team M-branch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbok7/pseuds/springbok7
Summary: James -- on a rare occasion -- prays.





	A Praying James

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsheTarasovich (natalieashe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts), [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts), [Dassandre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre/gifts).



> For my heart-sibs. You deserve all the good things. Here, have some healthy crack to get you started! MWAHAHAHA!
> 
> Beta-ed by my heart-sister [Dassandre](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre). All remaining errors and typos are mine. Please feel free to let me know if you spot any and/or feel there should be additional tags. I welcome constructive criticism, but neither support or feed trolls.
> 
>  
> 
> _I do not own these characters. No infringement of copyright is intended and no profit is being made from this piece of fan-fiction._
> 
>  
> 
> Written 10 May 2018

James prays; a rare occasion to be sure, despite how bruised and bloody he is, hanging on by sheer pig-headed stubbornness.

"Now I lay me down to sleep,   
pray the Lord my soul to keep.   
If I die before I ‘wake,   
pray my soul my Q to take."

~~~ JAQ ~~~

The prayer bunny assigned to the human -- so malnourished that its poor ribs are clearly evident beneath its iridescent fur -- carefully collects the sparkling wisps of the prayer before they can dissipate and hops a ride on a moonbeam.

It presents the wisps to its boss, who stares at the poor creature for almost five minutes before recognition of the small creature flashes across his face and he accepts the bundled wisps.  He transfers the prayer into the Celestial Supplication System of his own design -- bloody doves were always getting lost, and don’t even get him  _ started _ on the wretched fragility of those stone tablets -- and forwards it up the chain.  He passes the now solidified strands -- looking remarkably carrot-like -- back to the rabbit when he’s done.

He has already turned away as the bunny devours the meal, washing its paws thoroughly to make sure every last scrap has been consumed.

The rabbit has no idea when it might get another such meal, and -- yet again -- wonders what it’s done to deserve such a horrid assignment.  

It works hard.  

Stays on task.  

But why, oh why couldn’t it have been assigned a nice, devout, prayerful Catholic, instead?  

It hopes -- also, yet again -- that its next assignment will be more … fulfilling, at least for its belly.

Meal and report complete, the despondent little bunny hops off, reluctantly returning to its post.  It has a human to watch over. 

Thankless and unrewarding as the job might be.

~~~ JAQ ~~~

Meanwhile, the bunny’s boss has made his way from the CSS cloud to the shining, white cloud-citadel, where the Majestic Eminence, Jewel of the Persian Sky, and Creator of the Universe -- ‘M’ for short -- directs the business of Heaven.

Pressing his scintillating palm against the reader embedded in the cloud arch -- yet another system he has upgraded or built from scratch -- he passes through the faintly blue curtain of mystical energy humming in the archway.  If his palm hadn’t been accepted by the system, he’d be writhing in pain on the fluffy white cloud-top, awaiting a security squad summoned by the alarm instead of marching through the bright corridor on the other side of the arch.

Hey, security’s important!

He enters the office at the end of the corridor after a quick knock of his knuckles against the frame.

The seated being looks up from her cluttered desk and quirks an eyebrow in question at his presence.

“M, why am I on Bond watch  _ again _ ?!”

He tries to project calm indignation, but the quirk to M’s lips indicates he’s failing miserably.  

“I thought I worked  _ off _ my penance from the last Eden fire?  It was an  _ accident _ !”

Let no one accuse him of giving up easily or backing down from a fight.  

M is silent for a long moment, watching him, and he is reminded of how ruthless M can be.  Millenia running Heaven will do that.

She points her silver biro at him. “You need the matching set.  It’s all about balance.”

He draws breath to refute her, but she’s not done speaking.

“Besides, that penance was only for Eden Fire #2931. There have been 394 since.”

His eyes widen in horror.   _ Damn _ !

She smirks.  She might rule Heaven, but he knows she’s an evil bitch from Hell itself.

“I warned you not to take him, but you never listen.”

He wants to argue, wants to point out the flaw in her logic, but tragically he is fully aware that he did indeed willing accept responsibility for the bloody pyromaniac.  No judgement, please! He felt sorry for the guy; no one else had spoken for him. Isn’t compassion  _ supposed _ to be a Heavenly virtue?

Having an apprentice is so overrated!  Even if the sex is fucking amazing. 

“Bloody  _ hell _ !”

She’s got him, and they both know it.

But, instead of reprimanding him for the swearing, she surprises him.

“Actually,” she starts, “funny story there …”

His eyes widen again.  This  _ cannot  _ be good!

Her smirk widens, and she continues to speak. 

“Apparently Lucifer -- with atypical politeness -- informed Distributions that neither Trevelyan nor Bond would be permitted across the Styx.  Something about flammables in the Ninth Circle? I wasn't paying all that much attention. You do know how Michael loves to drone on.”

He shudders.  He’d had a hope -- admittedly, a small one -- that the pair’s penchant for explosions, mayhem, and general chaos might have endeared them to the Celestial Scion of Light and Favoured of the Ancients, Master of Hell and All Things Unholy -- known as C, or, more commonly, Lucifer.

But apparently not even the Master of Hell himself wants to deal with the Chaos Twins, as they’d been dubbed when both still walked the earth.

That also explains why no one had claimed either.   _ Drat _ !

“Q, you know what you need to do.  Do not force me to summon Evelyn to make the shot.  You know how she gets when she’s disturbed on a ‘spa day.’ ”

He shivers this time.  Yes. He is aware of how …  _ displeased _ … Eve will be if disturbed.  She’s been a spot touchy about her privacy ever since that terrible business with the apple.  

She’s also had a lot more practice than he wielding celestial weaponry.  

Which includes the deadly boots she favours.

He’d rather face the human.

Biting his tongue for all he is worth, Q bows his acquiescence -- throwing in a large dollop of formality to hopefully charm his boss into dismissing him without further penances: “Yes, Lord M, I am aware. Thank you for the warning.”

She waves him off and turns back to her endless paperwork before he’s even fully straightened out of his bow.

He creeps away to return to his cloud and grab his gear.  He’s already exhausted and he hasn’t even started the collection!

Q calls his apprentice forth from the depths of the garden -- presently free of incriminating smoke, thankfully -- as he passes Eden.  “ _ Alec _ !  Get your wings!  We’ve a job to do!”

Heaven help him once they finally  _ do _ collect James.  Q feels even more exhausted just thinking about corralling the two of them together.  

Two apprentices!  Who even  _ does _ that anymore?  He’s far too old for this!

But at least the sex will be brilliant!

~~~ JAQ ~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Give some love: Click that kudos button. Leave a comment. Such things keep writers from atrophy :D


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